


ECC

by rara_avis



Series: Fitter Happier (DBH Shorts) [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Genitalia, Light Bondage, M/M, Saving the World with Sexytimes, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Sexy Brawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16235579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rara_avis/pseuds/rara_avis
Summary: Connor and Hank grow close, but Connor still needs to finish his mission. After Jericho, that means assassinating Markus. Hank tries to stop him, and a fight ensues. When Connor's subdued, Hank notices something Connor's been hiding from him, and decides to save the revolution by giving Connor what he wants.





	ECC

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of light restraint, though initially to stop Connor from murder. 
> 
> DBH Kinkmeme Fill! "Hank saves the android revolution with his dick". This filled me with such joy, I had to tackle it. (So to speak.)
> 
> Notes: Hank refers to Connor as kid/boy but this is his way of talking & doesn’t imply he actually thinks of Connor this way. 
> 
>  
> 
> **This work was originally posted under another username.**
> 
>  
> 
> Not IRQ ‘verse, but same sexy rules apply. 
> 
> I know I have some WIPs I need to pay attention to, but mindless porn is easy for me to get my brain running!;;;

Hank's never been the best at the more delicate styles of hand-to-hand. He's a grappler, a boxer, a brawler. Connor's stronger and faster, programmed to counter most anything. But Hank is simply _bigger._ He manages to bodycheck the android against one of the rooftop maintenance sheds. Connor cracks his forehead on the metal siding, enough to make him dizzy and stop for one goddamn moment.

"Let me go, Hank,” Connor’s scratchy little voice growls, “I have to do this."

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank grunts. “You goddamn broken record.”

Connor’s been saying this since the start of the fight: _You shouldn’t try to stop me. I have to do this._

‘Do what?’ Hank had asked, with his gun trained on Connor’s back, the boy hunched over his sniper rifle.

‘My job,’ Connor had replied.

Hank’s heart breaks as he gets two zipties around Connor’s wrists while he’s stunned. Is the boy he’s come to watch grow and learn over the past few weeks really gone? Had he existed at all? The same kid that let deviants go, showed them mercy. Had chosen Hank over his instructions, saving his life. Sparing an android despite the offer of information. All in spite of the doubts that visibly plagued Connor, how stressed it clearly made him to go against his programming.

‘Tell me this, smartass,’ Hank had said, drunk and confused himself, wanting answers out of this machine he’s been saddled with, one that had seemed to be growing a soul. ‘What’ll happen if I pull the trigger, hmm? Oblivion? Android heaven?”

Those soft brown eyes staring down the sight of Hank’s revolver. 'I doubt there's a heaven for androids.'

If there is, then Connor’s got close to a few marks towards android hell. He’d planned to kill Markus in cold blood, what CyberLife wants. Not what he wants.

 _Faster, stronger, feels no pain._ Connor had said that before the fight, yanking off his tie and tossing it to the ground, which was lucky for Hank. He’d grabbed it on a roll and used it as a temporary ligature when he’d popped up again, getting Connor in a hold before pinning him. Connor's still got bloodflow he needs to his robot brain, but he's disoriented all the same.

"These people just want to be free," Hank says into Connor's ear, tightening the zipties just tighter than he would on a human. "You're one of them. I believed in you, Connor. I believe in you because we’re friends.”

The boy's still, tense. He coughs, pathetic.

"No," he says. His chest heaving. His little LED rolling red. He sounds stilted. "We were _never_ friends, it was -- just my social protocols. Adapting. Learning."

“You’re lying,” Hank says.

_I really appreciated working with you. I really mean that. At least, I think I do._

Connor had said something else, too, after he'd begged Hank to give him five minutes in the evidence room. That’s what Hank uses against him now.

"You’re lying. And -- you're afraid to die," Hank says. Connor's shoulders bunch, a human tell of surprised. "You did this because --"

"I had to!" Connor snaps. "I had to. It -- _Hank._ "

He says Hank's name so plainly, so helplessly. Hank thinks it might be a ploy to lower his guard so Connor can get free, so he decides to make sure Connor’s secure --

\-- and realizes that parks of Connor's neck have become white and blue. Normally androids don't show off their Thirium veins and biocomponent muscles, but Connor's can be seen through the plastic plates. They're pumping fast.

Hank's fingers curl slightly at Connor's bound wrists.

" _They_ can give you freedom, kid," Hank says. He leans forward, on a hunch. Right behind Connor's ear, where one of the blue veins is pulsing deep arterial blue. "You don't have to do this. This doesn't have to happen this way."

"No," Connor says, twisting, grinding his teeth. He sounds furious, and something else. "Get off me, Lieutenant."

"You figured it out when I was distracting Perkins," Hank says. His mouth is still there, and he drags his jaw over the skin. Connor shudders. It definitely isn't because it's cold. Hank’s hunches are usually right, looks like.

"You left,” Hank keeps going. “Got nearly blown up on that ship. Something happened to you there. Then when you got your next set of orders -- your life was on the line. I know it was. You told me so."

"I told you -- just what you needed to know --" Connor twists again. But he's still too slim and can’t brace himself for a fight: Hank’s got his legs locked in an awkward position.

“So you had to show your bosses that you’re the big bad robot you were built to be," Hank mutters, slipping his hand down to undo Connor's belt. "Thinking one shot would stop it all, or at least you'd try. But you know they'd just appoint another leader. You _know_ that."

"Lieutenant --" Connor hisses, forehead pressed against the metal. His LED reflects in the frosty metal, running yellow. "Stop --"

"Stop?" Hank stops, Connor's belt dangling open. "All right. We can stop."

Hank's back is cold, though the shed breaks the wind. His front is warm, though, and the adrenaline of the fight still courses through him. He's a little hard, now, liking how Connor had responded earlier to the very, very light touch of his mouth against the android's neck.

Connor's fingers curl.

"I don't want it here," he says. Plainly. "I want it -- I want --"

"You ‘want’ something?" Hank says. He's not above teasing. He even wants to be a little cruel, because Connor has just been stopped from assassinating a peaceful protester, he needs a little punishment. "That's interesting. That's kind of a -- human thing."

" _Hank._ " Connor tries to turn around. His face is blue over his skin, overheated white high on his cheekbones. Flushed. Eyes dilated. He’s aroused. "I'm -- not human. I told you --"

"But you're alive, aren't you?" Hank unzips Connor's denim, pleased by the android pushing his rear back in surprise when he does. "Alive. You said you want ‘it’. What do you want?"

The trousers get pushed down; Connor's left in his black briefs. He's shivering. Still not because he’s cold.

"I'm sorry," Connor breathes. "Please. Hank. I -- I just didn't want to -- I didn't want to die."

"You could've just told me," Hank says, hooking a hand past Connor's stomach, down into his briefs, "you could've come home after Jericho. I'd have kept you safe."

Connor's smooth on the front but he's got to have sensors down if he's at all wired like a human. Neural pathways and arteries. He gets a little lower and there's just this nicely grooved plate, like a cup. Lined along the bottom are ridges. Fusion points. He rubs his hand on them and Connor makes a noise Hank's sure he's never made in his existence.

"This'll get it out of your system," Hank murmurs, fingering Connor now properly, right above the band of the cup and down to his taint. "What'd'ya say?"

Connor's answer is just to put his cheek against the generator side and pant. His mouth's open. Breath clouds around his face. Hank doesn't mind rubbing his clothed half-erection against Connor's ass while he keeps fingering him.

Then when he reaches back just a bit further while rubbing Connor off, he feels it -- dampness. Slightly warm, a bit viscous. Hank groans.

"What the _hell_ , kid,” Hank says, dragging the dampness up Connor’s mound, “where have you been hiding this --?"

"Hank," Connor pleads through grit teeth. He turns his head and his LED is furious red. "Untie me. Please."

"I don't know if I can trust you," Hank murmurs, fingers playing against Connor's wrists.

"Just move me, then," Connor says. "I promise. I -- just not like this."

"You _really_ want me to fuck you," Hank says, stepping away.

Connor's a sight. His ass is bare and white-blue at the apex of the cheeks. There's that slick between his parted legs, inviting. Hank backs him up from the wall a little and pushes him against a waist-level vent. He decides to slide the tie up and against Connor’s throat, making a loose knot, easy for Hank to grab.

"I don't want to kill you, kid," Hank says, keeping a grip on the tail of the tie as he undoes his own pants, "but I will fuck you up like before if you try and move on me. I can stop any time. Don't test me."

Connor nods, cheek to the snow-covered top of the vent. Hank reaches between Connor's legs again and finds his hole, circling around it. It's like nothing he's ever felt on a human, and it's leaking steadily with every other pulse of Connor's heart. Hank decides he's done talking. He puts a finger to Connor's entrance and begins to push inside, wondering what kind of reaction Connor'll have. It's a good one, and Connor makes the aroused noise he'd made earlier: kind of like a groan and a sigh with a metallic edge.

This is a great sight. Connor's ass exposed, his android body primed to be fucked. There's probably some fancy bullshit science reason he's gushing against Hank's fingers -- now worked up to two -- but who cares about science when a pretty boy’s making those _noises_. Hank's fully hard, now, and Connor's just thrusting back against his fingers, nothing like the scowling soldier he'd been ten minutes ago with his rifle and a few nasty things to say about Hank’s drinking habits.

"You don't have to listen to them," Hank says, leaning over Connor, who's now bent over like a toppled L. He rucks up Connor's shirt and jacket with a single hand, stroking the ridges of his spine as he works his cock with Connor's extra slick. "You just gotta come back with me, Connor, it's all right."

Connor adjusts his shoulders, making a soft noise. He moves his legs further apart. Hank accepts the invitation.

The android's warm. Tight. _Wet._ Clenching around Hank's cock, a new texture, a new sensation. Connor's panting deep in his chest, almost like a rattling speaker. He's thrusting backwards. His fingers have lost their pigment, he's clenching them so hard. Hank squeezes Connor's sides, yanking him back against him, their skin smacking together audibly. Hank claps a hand against Connor's thigh and Connor sure likes it, his insides squeezing Hank tightly.

"So wet now, kid," Hank mutters, watching his cock stretch Connor's hole with dizzy pride, "so fucking wet, maybe I'll slip out."

" _No_ ," Connor gasps in desperation, trying to reach back with those bound hands. Hank takes one hand away from Connor's side and digs up a pocket knife, opens it with his teeth, and slices the zipties in half.

Maybe that's a stupid move. Hank won’t be sure until Connor reacts to having his hands free. So it’s great that the first thing the android does is to reach back and try to grasp at Hank's cock to make sure it stays in. They're positioned a little too awkwardly for that, though. Connor settles on both elbows, bowing his head. The looped tie now dangles in front of Connor's throat, and his hair's fallen everywhere out of its perfect coiffure.

Hank's got a better angle and so he all but crushes Connor against the vent top, pinning Connor's searching hand with one arm, find Connor's ear again. Biting the lobe, whispering, "Good, good. You're doing so good. What a good boy."

" _Hank_ ," Connor gasps, and he's riding an orgasm a moment later. It's twitchy and almost painful for Hank, Connor’s sex uncharted territory. Hank’s still not quite there, but Connor's insides want this foreign intrusion to give it something to sense. To _taste._

"You've wanted this for a while, Connor?" Hank asks. Connor's still jerking around with his climax, but he's cooling, legs drooping a little loosely as he fights for sharper consciousness. "'Cause I think you've been hot for me more than once. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Connor says, a breath of a word. "Yes, Hank. Yes."

In the near distance, a jubilant cry from the crowd goes up, Markus having finished his speech. It gives Hank a wall of sound to bellow his finish. It feels he's giving everything to this boy -- _his_ boy -- with his body, and Connor spasms with a throaty shout as he cums again. When Hank's able to string coherent thoughts again, he's half collapsed over Connor, still deep inside him, the pulse of slick and semen between their joined bodies.

"You're crushing me, Lieutenant," Connor murmurs, rolling his shoulders to push up. It's hard to hear him over the cheering, but Hank manages.

"You can handle it," Hank mutters. "You deserve it."

Connor turns as much over his shoulder as he can, an eyebrow arched. _Not impressed, huh?_

"I should -- we should --" Connor clears his throat, expression softening with slight embarrassment. "We should go somewhere less -- occupied."

"Promise you won't pull a gun on me?" Hank grunts, pulling out. He's at a loss on how to clean up, but Connor just pulls up his briefs and denim over the mess.

"I promise," Connor says, finally properly facing Hank for the first time since their fight. Hank reaches out with his clean hand an pushes Connor's hair back, looking at how the boy's mouth is pursed and a little cracked from cold, from panting in the dry chill. "Except -- aren't you the one _I_ need to worry about? Considering..."

"No," Hank says, finishing tightening his own belt. "Not unless you're going to try and kill more rebel leaders."

“I don’t _want_ to," Connor says, stubborn. "I won’t --”

Connor stops and looks at the sniper rifle behind him, discarded. He looks at Hank. Then his whole face goes slack. His LED goes red, his mouth remains half-open. His body tenses like someone who's just been shot, and he falls to his knees. Hank, panicked, kneels before him, slapping lightly at his face.

"Kid? _Connor_ , come on," Hank says, pushing his hands through Connor's hair and shaking him a little. “Hey, _hey_ , not now!”

Connor looks at Hank, blank and curious. His LED is red, red, then cycles down to yellow, and finally -- blue. Calm, curling blue. His gaze focuses on a point beyond Hank. His eyes are a little damp and curious.

"That's it, then," Connor murmurs, dreamy. To himself, like a person would. "That's all I needed?"

"Uh, Connor?" Hank's patting his cheeks, now, a little bit of uncharacteristic hysteria rising in him. "Did I break you?"

"Not me, Lieutenant," Connor says, voice hoarse and sweet as he smiles, "but you did help me break through something else. Thank you."

Hank’s pretty sure what just happened, but he won’t mention it. No use spooking the kid. “You’re welcome.”

Cold's catching up to Hank, now, his sweat and exertion making him feel wobbly. He helps Connor up and they make it to Hank's car. They've got curfew to meet and a shower to take. A bloodless, assassin-free android revolution to celebrate. They also need to celebrate Connor’s deviancy, too, freedom from suffering a existential crisis. Freedom to give a shit about what he wants, and what his limits are.

And if it takes a bit more time to ‘break through’ to get all of CyberLife’s bullshit out of his system, Hank’s happy to oblige.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on [tumblr](http://tselina.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/seohyun/) \-- come say hi! :D


End file.
